Innlechild
by ThePurplePadawan
Summary: Set 20 years after the Red Queen. Elspeth and Rushton's daughter Cassy has never known anywhere but Eden, and she yearns to explore beyond the sheltered valley. The arrival of Sebastien, son of Analivia and Swallow, may provide her with the opportunity to do just that.
1. Chapter 1

**Innlechild**

 **Chapter 1**

The darkness bloomed into dawn, flooding the valley with light and illuminating the lush gardens and rolling hills of Eden. It was the only place I had ever known. I loved it, truly I did, but I always had this hankering feeling that there was something more, something I was missing.

Today that would change. Today was my eighteenth birthday. Today I was leaving, though I hadn't told my parents yet. Today I would go beyond Eden, and find what I couldn't reconcile here.

Standing from my position on the rocky ledge, I turned back toward the gleaming building which stood atop the hill. It had once housed the cryopods of hundreds of sleeping beasts, preserving them for centuries, but that had all been freed before I was born. My parents and Sentinel, as well as Gahltha and Maruman, had freed them, and now the beasts roamed the surrounding hills.

Maruman had disappeared when I was five, and he was a distant memory, though my mother often spoke of him as if he were dead. Though he was ageing, Gahltha still resided in the fields around Eden. My mother seldom rode him now for fear of hurting him.

I stepped into the house and headed for my room. Petro was waiting for me on the end of my bed, wings folded, beak scratching at his feathers impatiently.

"Innlechild has been gone long," the little owl observed.

"You are lazy," I teased. "Mam told you to watch me, but you were dozing when I left. Aren't you supposed to be nocturnal?"

Petro shook his feathers. "Petro has changed his ways for Innlechild. Innlechild should be grateful," he sent.

I laughed and flung open the window. My father had cut it out of the wall; sleeping beasts didn't need windows. This room had once contained the cryopods of fifty birds, but they had been replaced by my bed, a modified empty cryopod which had once belonged to a monkey. Shoving the bedclothes aside, I pulled out a linen bag my mother made me for a previous birthday and stuffed it with another set of clothes, my journal, a map Sentinel had created, a water-skin, a thin sleeping bag and a bag of dried fruit I had picked from the orchard. Deciding I had best see my parents before I left, I made my way toward the kitchen.

My mother was already there preparing breakfast, her eyes ringed with black. She must have had one of her nightmares again. At least, that was what she called them. Sometimes they came true. I reached out and hugged her, making her mouth curve slightly.

"Morning Mam," I greeted her.

She buried her face in my hair. "Good morning, Cassy. Happy birthday."

I took the bowl from her and set about making breakfast myself. "Sit down and tell me what you saw."

She shook her head. "I don't want to burden you on your birthday."

"I can handle it."

My mother sighed and ran a hand through her raven hair. There was one streak of grey which had appeared a year ago.

"I dreamed that Dragon miscarried again. The look on Matthew's face when she told him was heart-breaking. So much depends on having an heir; it must be terrible for them."

"You miss them."

She nodded. "More than you could know. They were like siblings to me, and I felt so responsible for them. Then I up and left."

"To come here," I added. "Why don't you go back?"

"Futuretellers say I never will, so I suppose I have never tried."

A soft clunk echoed down the hallway, followed by an annoyed grunt. Soon my father appeared, bleary-eyed but grinning.

"Happy birthday." He seized me in a bear hug. "How is my adventurer?"

"I'm great, Da. But Mam is not so much."

He took my mother's hand and squeezed it, releasing me. They shared a look full of love and support, but also etched with remembered pain. I would never understand the depth of their bond.

Not everyone could say their mother had saved the world, but I could with a proud smile. It was hard to believe sometimes, watching her sew or work on the farm, but she carried herself with a strength I could never possess.

The three of us sat about the table and ate breakfast in companionable silence. Petro fluttered in and perched on my head, digging his claws into my mane of hair. I shoved him off and he complained noisily, settling for sitting in the middle of the table. That made my mother laugh, which warmed my heart. She had become increasingly withdrawn lately, and seemed to have recurring nightmares, or perhaps she was dreaming of her friends and worrying about them.

"Can I go exploring today?" I asked, laying aside my empty bowl. "I want to go up past the hills, out of the valley."

"That could take more than a day," my father warned. "It's dangerous out there, Cass. There is a reason none of us have left the valley since we arrived."

"Gahltha has," I retorted.

My mother shook her head. "Gahltha is a wild horse. He can do as he pleases. You are my tame daughter. You don't know how to look after yourself out there."

"I am eighteen, Ma. Under Land laws, that makes me an adult. When am I going to start learning how to take care of myself if I don't take some risks?"

The conversation was interrupted by a loud knocking sound. My parents glanced at each other and then at me.

"I didn't do anything."

"I will see what's happening," my father decided, rising from the table and moving toward the front door. I got up and hurried after him, wiping my mouth on my sleeve, Petro squawking behind me.

My father opened the door, and there stood a young man dressed in a loose shirt and trews with dark skin and long hair. My father gasped. "Swallow?"

The young man bowed his head. "I am not my father, I am afraid. Though I never met him, I am often told of my resemblance to him. I am Sebastien, son of Analivia and Swallow."

"How the blazes did you find us?" my father asked.

"My mother knew you had found Eden, for she dreamed of you. Ines in the Land produced a map, which led me to you."

"Come in," my father urged, beckoning for Sebastien to come inside. He did so, seeming to notice me for the first time and bobbing his head in acknowledgement, though his eyes widened. His mother mustn't have dreamed of me.

"Elspeth, you will never guess who just walked in," my father called.

My mother stood as we entered the kitchen and put a hand over her mouth. "Sebastien!" she exclaimed. "I have dreamed of you and Ana. But why are you here?"

Sebastien smiled what my father might have described as a gypsy smile. "I am here because the Red Land needs help. The Gadfians are rumoured to be mustering their fleet and trying to take back Redport. Matthew, the Red Queen's husband, thinks that you must return to the Red Land and help the Queen."

"Me?" my mother asked. "I can't go back. Sentinel said I would never –"

"Sentinel is a computer machine who figures probabilities using algorithms. Sentinel did not foresee that I would come here without passing through the treacherous lands you trekked on your journey. I came here by glide, and that is how we will leave here."

"Mam doesn't have to leave," I interjected. "I could go. I can beastspeak, farseek, coerce and heal."

"No, Cassy." My father put a hand on my shoulder, infuriatingly paternal and protective. "You stay here."

I shook him off me. "If Sebastien came here in a glide, it would be perfectly safe for me to leave here in a glide. Much better than trying to walk all that way. How long did it take you?"

My father refused to answer, which only made me more determined.

"You can't stop me. I have a bag packed already."

My mother sighed. "Rushton, if Cassy will go, so must I."

"And I will follow," my father replied.

"We must pack." My mother squeezed my shoulder and left the kitchen, my father on her heels. Only Sebastien and I remained, and Petro flapping uselessly above my head.

The gypsy grinned, which annoyed me. Despite the fact he had just provided me with the perfect opportunity to leave Eden, I didn't trust him yet. We had only just met. My parents seemed to take him seriously because they knew his parents, but I was less sure.

"You are Cassy?" he asked, looking pleased with himself.

"I am," I confirmed, raising an eyebrow. "And you are Sebastien. Is this significant?"

The gypsy shrugged. "My mother often speaks of your parents. Elspeth Gordie, guildmistress of the farseekers, who disabled the weaponmachines that caused the Great White, and Rushton Seraphim, formerly the Master of Obernewtyn."

"I know who my parents are. And I know of yours." I eyed him curiously. "But neither of us are our parents. Tell me of you. Who is Sebastien? And why has he travelled all this way to Eden when he should be living happily in the Land?"

"I left the Land a few years ago," he told me. "Against my mother's wishes, I wanted to see the Red Land, see the place where my father died. I travelled there in one of the glides my mother had helped scavenge. When I arrived, I was straight away summoned to an audience with the Red Queen. She was exceedingly curious to meet me, but she seemed preoccupied. She was expecting a child, while also expecting the arrival of a new emissary from the Empire of the White Face Lords. I was allowed to visit the crypt of the first Red Queen's brother, where my father was murdered on the orders of the much-loathed Ariel." The gypsy's face curled in anger.

"While I was in Redport, the emissary arrived with tidings of a mustering of the Gadfian fleet. I was again summoned to the Red Queen, who was there with her husband Matthew. She appeared to be in increasing pain, so he spoke to me of your parents' journey to Eden, and bade me locate Elspeth and bring her to Redport, for the Queen badly needed her. So I took the glide which had transported me from the Land and retraced your parents' steps as best I could with my limited knowledge of the area."

Nodding, I realised the breakfast dishes still sat on the kitchen table and absent-mindedly moved to clear them. "Sentinel?"

"Yes, User Cassy," the computermachine replied.

"Water please."

The tap in the kitchen sink spurted water and I shoved the dishes into it, scalding my hand. "A little colder, please Sentinel."

"Affirmative, User Cassy."

Sebastien seemed unfazed by the computermachine's constant, irremovable presence, though if he was indeed Ana's son, that was no surprise. My mother often talked of Ana's skill with machines. Machine empathy, she called it, and she had sometimes told me I might possess a similar ability.

"Tell me of Cassy," the gypsy insisted suddenly.

I shrugged. "There is little to tell. I have lived in Eden all my life, though I long to explore beyond the hills. My parents forbid it. They fear for me." Petro fluttered over and landed on my shoulder, nibbling at my hair.

My parents re-entered the kitchen, now fully dressed and carrying bags full of supplies. They were deep in conversation.

"You will have to tell Gahltha," my father said.

My mother nodded. "He cannot come with us. He is too old." She pursed her lips. "If we leave, we may not see him again. He may not last while we are gone."

My father patted her arm. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

She bit her lip and nodded. "Dragon needs me. That is all that matters."

"I will fetch my bag," I announced, drying my hands and exiting the kitchen. Petro followed me, dropping feathers as he flew.

"Where Innlechild goes, Petro will follow," he sent.

"I expected nothing less," I told him.

I returned to the kitchen with my bag over my shoulder. "Ready?"

My mother sighed and my father took her hand. "I suppose we are. I beastspoke Gahltha and he is not happy, but the Daywatcher cannot watch me all my life."

We left then, the only home I had ever known. Gahltha was waiting for us as we left the gleaming building, left Sentinel. He snorted in frustration as my mother bid him a tearful farewell.

Then Sebastien was leading us from the valley, toward the shiny glide. And I was entering the Beforetime machine for the first time and buckling into a seat as the glide took off, Sebastien at the helm. And I watched through a window in the floor as Eden slipped away beneath me, perhaps forever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

When I woke, it was to find that Petro had made a nest out of my hair. There were no twigs in the glide, so he had improvised, teasing my hair into a bowl-like shape. He was the only beast who had chosen to leave Eden with us, and though he insisted otherwise I knew it was because of his unwavering devotion to me; I had raised him after all. When he was a baby, he had fallen from the nest and been abandoned by his parents, so I had taken it upon myself to look after him.

"Petro, why can't you just curl up on a seat? You do not have to sleep in something spherical," I sent.

The little owl needled at my hair. "Innlechild would worry if Petro changed his routine." I almost laughed.

My mother and father sat in similar seats behind me, hands clasped together as they slept. I wondered how long I had been asleep, realising Sebastien was still in the pilot's seat. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I rose and walked toward the gypsy.

"Do you need a break?" I asked him.

Sebastien eyed me, his gaze full of sarcasm. "Are you offering to take over?"

I sighed and planted myself on the floor beside him, sitting cross-legged. "How long have we been flying?"

"About three hours."

I gaped. How had he stayed awake? My eyelids were already drooping again. "How long do we have to go?"

He flashed me a weary grin. "Another two."

"But surely we will stop, so you can rest," I protested. "You can't be completely alert for five hours."

"Not when someone keeps talking to me."

I huffed and crossed my arms. "I am just keeping you awake."

"You don't like me, do you?" he asked, sounding thoughtful.

"I am yet to decide if I like you. Right now I don't trust you."

The gypsy glanced at me in surprise. "You don't trust me but you are happy to let me fly a glide?"

"Do I have much choice?"

He turned away from me to study the dashboard, an artwork of flashing lights and numbers. "You had best buckle up. We may hit turbulence."

Yawning, I nodded and resumed my seat. I was a little ashamed to find how easily I drifted off to sleep again.

When next I woke, a siren was beeping loudly. My parents were already up and were watching through the window in the floor as a storm raged around us. Petro fluttered nervously around my head so I yanked his foot and scooped him up in my arms. I carried him with me as I passed my parents and headed for the pilot's seat.

Sebastien's face was strained with fatigue and worry. My guess was we had travelled another hour. I leaned forward to look at the storm through the front windows.

"Can we fly out of it?" I asked.

The gypsy shook his head. "It is too large. The computer can't locate the edge of it. I'm going to try flying lower."

"Should I buckle up?"

"Unless you feel like being thrown from side to side," he replied, his eyes fixed on the window.

I nodded though he wasn't looking at me and returned to my seat, advising my parents to do the same. To my relief, they sat beside me instead of behind me, which meant I could see them and reassure myself that they were unharmed. Petro squawked feebly as I held him tight.

The glide jerked in an awkward turn as we began to descend. Sebastien manoeuvred the nose of the glide upward, but the back of it spun out, clanging against something.

"What was that?" I yelled over the noise of the storm.

The gypsy didn't answer.

Then we began to sink, gaining speed and momentum until our descent seemed unstoppable. Petro shivered and clung to me, tearing holes in my shirt. I knew my parents were as terrified as I was, but they were hiding it for my sake.

With an ugly crunch we came to land, hitting the surface and skidding several metres. Silently I thanked Lud we were not travelling over water. Then I forced myself to open my eyes.

The glide had cracked open along the side and we were pummelled by harsh sand whipping in the wind. Unclasping my seatbelt, I stood, shielding Petro with my shirt, and waded through the gathering sand toward the exit. Then I realised that while my parents were navigating their way from the wreckage, there was no sign of Sebastien. We had crashed nose-first.

Turning back to the pilot's seat, I raced toward the gypsy's limp body. No. He couldn't be dead. He couldn't have died already. We had only just met. Panicking, I shook his shoulder.

To my great relief, he roused and looked up at me, blinking hard.

"Sebastien, we crashed. We have to get out of here." I seized his hand and helped him up.

We had just climbed out of the wreckage when a wild gust of wind swept bits of metal up into what seemed to be the beginnings of a tornado. Running hard, I followed my parents through the biting sand toward what seemed to be a rocky outcropping. I realised I still gripped Sebastien's hand and hastily dropped it. The gypsy smiled wearily as we continued on.

My father bundled my mother into what appeared to be a small cave and pushed both Sebastien and I inside before crawling in himself. Petro squawked from inside my shirt as we all squeezed in together. We waited in tense silence as the storm swirled outside.

"How far do you think we are from Redport?" my father asked.

"Difficult to tell," my mother replied. "All the desert looks the same."

I fished the map Sentinel had made from my linen bag which was now full of sand and spread it on the ground. "Once the storm clears we can find a land mark and get our bearings."

Sebastien was awfully quiet and I turned to look at him. He sat between my father and I, clutching his leg. In the dim light, I thought I saw blood dripping down it.

"Have you hurt yourself?"

The gypsy set his jaw and nodded.

My father leaned forward to inspect the wound. "You could heal that, couldn't you Cass?"

"Possibly," I admitted. "I would need more light."

My mother plunged her hand into her bag and pulled out a long tube. At the press of a button, it lit up the small cave with eerie green light.

"Show me your leg," I sighed.

Sebastien tore at his trews to reveal an ugly gash seeping blood. Telling myself I wasn't squeamish, I took out my water-skin and dripped some of my supply onto his leg, trying to wash the blood away. Pulling my spare shirt from my bag, I ripped a sleeve off and wound it around the wound. The sand-coloured garment was soon stained red, but I tied it so it held. Clearing my mind, I tried to forget my mistrust for the gypsy and concentrate.

I pressed my hands against the gash in his leg and sent a deep probe into his mind. The probe identified the damaged tissue and I instructed it to fix it; soon the blood was not gushing but trickling. Exhausted, I sat back and brushed my hands on my skirt.

"Now you won't die from blood loss," I told Sebastien. "Hopefully."

The gypsy nodded and tried to hold my gaze, though I was reluctant to maintain eye contact. "Thank you," he said, sincerity in his voice.

Unsettled by his change of tone, I looked away from him and set about packing my stuff back into the linen bag. "Anyone for some dried fruit?"

We set up a small camp, dining on dried fruit and some nuts my mother had packed. The storm still rumbled overhead as we turned in for the night, each in our separate sleeping bags, although Sebastien hadn't packed one. My father had offered his own, selfless as ever, but the gypsy had refused, instead settling down in the sand.

"I will take the first watch," my mother had announced, promising to wake my father after a few hours.

It took me a while to get to sleep. I had never slept outside of Eden before, apart from in the glide. This place was unfamiliar, and that made it difficult to relax. Though I would never admit it, my lack of sleep possibly had something to do with the young man who lay metres away. He was a complete stranger, and we were sleeping in the same place, and it made me uncomfortable. Part of me wanted to blame him for the crash, but another part of me couldn't bring myself to.

Petro needled me with his beak, sensing my unrest. "Innlechild must sleep or she will not be able to keep up with Petro tomorrow."

I smiled and kissed his feathered head. "I will Petro, don't worry."

Wherever we were, wherever we would end up, I had to sleep sometime.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

For the second day in a row, I woke up with the sun. Light streamed in the entrance of the cave, piercing my eyes open. Sebastien was already up, although he may have been on watch. Both my parents still slept, as did Petro, so I tried not to disturb the little owl as I sat up and rubbed at my eyes.

The gypsy was sitting cross-legged and seemed to be studying something on the ground. I shifted to take a closer look and realised he was staring at a map much like the one Sentinel had made for me. We did not yet know where we were. What did he hope to gain by consulting the map?

Seeing me awake, he shuffled closer so I could see the map too. Not entirely sure that I wanted him closer, I looked at the map anyway. He pointed at a large rock marked on the map.

"I think we are somewhere near here. At least, that's where the glide computer thought we were, though obviously it was not accurate enough to judge safe altitude."

 _Or perhaps you were not competent enough to judge safe altitude_. No, that was harsh. He could only be a year or so older than me, and I could never have piloted a glide. Instead I nodded.

Standing, I shook the sand out of my clothes and ran my hands through my hair, rivulets of sand falling with my fingers. Petro stirred as I laid him down on my sleeping bag but he did not wake. I left Sebastien to look at his map and stood in the mouth of the cave to stare out at the desert.

The sand was monotonous, an orange-red colour which seemed to penetrate everything. Not that there was much else out here. Eden had been green, with rolling hills and leafy trees, but here everything was red and lifeless. I had never seen so much sand in my life.

"Cassy," my mother called and I turned to face her. She stood behind me, hair jumbled back in a loose bun, arms outstretched. Sighing, I fell into her embrace. Though neither of us were empaths, she could tell I was out of my depth here, in this endless desert.

"What is wrong, little one?" she sent.

"I am little no longer, Mam," I replied. "But whether I can handle the world outside of Eden is another question."

"Do you want to go back?"

I shook my head. "No. I want to see the world, Mam. I am eighteen and I have only known Eden."

She kissed my head, unsettling more sand. "You can do this."

My father was watching us with a curious expression on his face. He could tell when we were farseeking each other, though his latent Talent could not detect it. Apparently there was a particular facial expression we both made when farseeking.

Breakfast much resembled dinner from the night before. We then packed up our small camp and ventured from the cave, my mother in the lead. Of all of us, she knew the area best, as she had travelled here with Sebastien's parents, as well as with my father. The gypsy identified the cave as a small rocky outcropping marked on his map, and we planned our route toward Redport.

"This will take us days, perhaps weeks," my mother told us.

Sebastien nodded. "I am sorry about the glide."

"No, no need to apologise," she interrupted. "It's not as if you conjured the storm. You had no control over the situation."

The gypsy fell silent and did not utter another word for many hours.

We struck out in the general direction of Redport, walking two-abreast in rugged formation. My parents walked in front, and Sebastien and I brought up the rear, Petro flapping overhead.

The heat was searing as it pressed down on us, sweat pearling on my brow. My mother had made a head covering by wrapping a blanket around her head and my father copied her. I did the same, tying my hair out of the way and twisting what was left of my spare shirt around my head. Petro picked at the shirt, complaining that he couldn't see my face and thus was unable to tell if I was adequately alive.

The little owl gave a running commentary of our progress. "Thisplace is too hot for Petro… Petro is sweating through his feathers… Innlechild, when does the sand end?"

I could no more answer this question than I could pilot a glide.

Deciding that talking would help pass the time as we trudged through the sand, I turned to Sebastien. "Are you a Misfit?"

He nodded. "I am a coercer, and I have inherited the gypsy ability to see auras. My mother sent me up to Obernewtyn for a year to explore my coercer abilities."

"Obernewtyn," I echoed. A place I had heard much of but had never seen, and perhaps never would. But if we had left Eden for the Red Land, surely I could then travel to the Land. Futuretellers only claimed my mother would not. "What's it like?"

"Mountainous." Sebastien grinned. "There is a great community feel, and the place has really flourished since Dameon became the Master of Obernewtyn. You would like it there."

I glanced at him in puzzlement. "How do you know that?"

The gypsy winked at me. "I just have a feeling you would."

We stopped at midday by another rock outcropping which offered some shade, and ate more dried fruit and nuts. I was beginning to get sick of this scant diet. At Eden, I had been spoilt for choice. We rested during the hottest part of the day, though I felt useless sitting around when we could be moving further toward Redport, and away from this stinking desert. I farsought my mother so, but she argued we would only hurt ourselves if we pushed on.

Petro flew out ahead of us as we waited for the cooler part of the afternoon. He came back every so often to report what he saw, though it wasn't much.

"Petro has seen lots of sand and lots of redness," he sent. "Some rocks but no green like the barud."

"Are you homesick?" I asked.

The little owl ruffled his feathers. "Petro's barud is where Innlechild is."

I smiled and cuddled him to me.

We trekked on as the shadows lengthened, stopping at sunset to locate a suitably sheltered place to camp. My father found us another cave, and we set up our sleeping bags as the light faded.

The next three days passed in much the same way. Sebastien and I spoke little, and my excitement at leaving Eden had long since died. All I wanted was to be rid of all this sand.

"There! Can you see it?"

Sebastien pointed to something in the distance ahead of us. Craning my neck, I shook my head.

"Buildings, Cassy. I can see Redport," the gypsy told me.

We increased our pace and soon the top of a building came into view. "I can see it!" I exclaimed, verging on hysteria. Some sign of life, some sign of civilisation.

"The Infinity of Dragonstraat, I think," my mother called over her shoulder. "It's magnificent up close."

Buoyed by my glimpse of Redport, I felt much happier the rest of the day. When we made camp that night, we could see the outskirts of the desert city. It was safe here, I could feel it. There were no caves this close to the coast, so we camped in the open.

A low growl woke me in the middle of the night. Frightened, I sat up quickly and turned in the direction of the sound. A lion, red like the sand, stood over my father, its teeth bared.

"Rushton," my mother cried. I watched as she tried to beastspeak the animal, but it seemed not to hear her. Instead it turned its blood chilling gaze on me.

"Innlechild," it greeted me. "This one has seen _seliga_ that Innlechild and this one have paths which must cross."

Trying not to shiver in fear, I replied, "Please step away from this man. He is my father and I will not help you if you injure him."

After a moment's hesitation, the lion moved away from my father, and my mother seized him in a hug. The beast returned its gaze to me, and I felt Sebastien's hand on my arm. Shaking him off, I stepped toward the lion.

"What is your name?" I sent.

"This one is called Renn," it replied.

"I do not know what you seek, Renn. Please leave us in peace."

To my relief, the lion bowed its head and turned, slinking away from us.

I felt Sebastien's hand on my shoulder, but this time did not shove him away. "That was incredible," he whispered.

"It wasn't," I insisted, but I too was struck with awe by the power and majesty of the lion. Like Petro and all the beasts at Eden, it had called me Innlechild. Yet the lion spoke as if the name meant I had some role to play, not simply that I was my mother's daughter. I shook my head and turned back to my parents.

Taking my father's offer of a bear hug, I kissed his cheek. "You did well, my adventurer," he told me. He couldn't know what had transpired between myself and the lion, but it was obvious something had happened. My mother gave me an approving look.

"Innlechild is very brave," Petro sent, emerging from his hiding place beneath my sleeping bag.

It was not long until dawn, so we decided to move on. We arrived at the outskirts of Redport as Redlanders began to leave their homes for the start of the working day. I stared at the buildings in awe; never had I seen anything like them. The Infinity of Dragonstraat rendered me momentarily speechless.

"Is that Dragon?" I asked.

My mother nodded, a smile parting her lips. "She is even more beautiful than the painting."

She led us straight to the palace island upon Sebastien's assurance that it had been restored as the Red Queen's residence. Where my mother had once described a ruin, there stood an ornate building with balconies and turrets, and a spire piercing the sky.

The guards let us into the palace as soon as my mother spoke her name. We were led straight to the throne room to await the Red Queen herself.

"Matthew!" my mother exclaimed as a smiling man entered the throne room. They embraced, beaming from ear to ear, and my father clapped Matthew on the back. Matthew nodded acknowledgement to Sebastien, but his eyes widened in surprise at the sight of me.

"Are ye Cassy?" he asked, shaking my hand.

I smiled. "I am."

"I've dreamed about ye, and Dragon speaks highly of ye in what she has seen."

 _Of course you've dreamed of me. Everyone has dreamed of me._

"Where is Dragon?" my mother asked.

"I'm here," came a smooth woman's voice. There she was, the Red Queen herself, dressed in a red gown that scraped the floor, her red-gold hair braided atop her head. Her beauty was breathtaking, but it didn't take me long to notice the dark rings under her eyes, or how thin she was.

She embraced my mother, whose face was full of concern. "Dragon, I have dreamed of both your miscarriages. I am terribly sorry. How are you holding up?"

"Better now you are here, Elspeth," the Red Queen replied, and I thought I caught a glimpse of a wild young girl about my own age. Perhaps she wasn't as tame as she seemed. A weight seemed to have lifted off Dragon's shoulders and she smiled wearily. "Much better now you are here."


	4. Chapter 4

The room was enormous, furnished with cushioned chairs and decorated with rich red drapes. The bed was also huge, with a mattress ten times as comfortable as mine back in Eden. I was amazed I had been able to sleep in it, it was so soft. But I had, shutting out the world completely between our early morning arrival and noon. Now I scrambled to clothe myself in borrowed finery as someone knocked on my door, Petro squawking on my shoulder in alarm.

Breathless, I heaved the door aside. Sebastien stood there, arms crossed in mock impatience. He had changed too, and was now dressed in a loose shirt and trews of a much better quality than what he had worn when we first met.

"Bed hair?" he observed, grinning.

I harrumphed, pulling my grimy black locks out of the way. "Bed hair to you too," I replied, though his longish hair looked fine tousled.

"We shall miss midmeal of you dawdle much longer, Cassy."

Glaring at him, I slipped on some sandals before following him down the hallway toward the palace's dining hall. The architecture was incredible, though I only had Eden to compare it to. Columns lined the walls, and each was engraved with a scene from Redport's history, be it distant or recent. One image depicted a younger Dragon astride a horse which looked suspiciously like Gahltha in his prime, and raising the Queen's sceptre in the middle of a square.

The Red Queen herself sat at the head of a long table, Matthew seated to her right next to my father, and my mother on her left. I sat beside my mother opposite my father, Petro fluttering to perch in my mother's hair, and Sebastien took the seat to my left. Several important-looking people sat further down the table.

My mother smiled at me as I sat down, a question in her eyes.

"I am perfectly alright, Mam," I farsought her, and her smile widened.

"We were just talking about you," she said aloud, gesturing at Dragon and scooping Petro from her hair, laying him on the table. "I think you could help Dragon; you could heal her so that she is able to have children."

"I've never..." I began.

My mother took my hand. "Cassy, you have done an incredible amount of things in the last couple of days which you have never done before. There is little harm in giving it a try."

"I can help," Sebastien added. "Coercer abilities can strengthen healing abilities."

My father leaned across the table. "And I am always here if you need."

I smiled, knowing he would lend his dormant Talent where he could. Of course, my mother could have provided the coercer abilities of which Sebastien spoke, but from her face she liked the idea of the gypsy lending a hand. With a sigh, I admitted, "I suppose I could try. Your Majesty," I added, with a quick glance at Dragon.

The Red Queen beamed in a most unqueenly fashion.

"You can try after midmeal," my mother decided.

It was with an impossible amount of nerves that I entered the Red Queen's chambers a short time later. Sebastien walked beside me and I almost felt like taking his arm to steady myself, but of course I did not. Dragon sat on her bed in a gorgeous but comfortable dress, and Matthew stood beside her, his face drawn. Telling myself to breathe properly, I approached the bed and smiled shakily at Matthew before taking Dragon's hand and entering her mind.

Navigating her mind was no easy task. Her natural mental shields wove a chaotic web around her mind, but after a few tries, my probe broke through, once she had recognised it as friendly. I felt Sebastien take my other hand as he added his strength to mine. After many long minutes, I pulled away, hoping I had done what was necessary.

Dragon looked as exhausted as I felt, but she smiled at me wearily. Sebastien squeezed my hand before releasing it, and I nodded, not knowing what else to do. Matthew thanked us heartily, before we were dismissed from the bedchamber.

The silence between the gypsy and I was more companionable as we left. It felt as if we had achieved something together, had worked as a team. Startled, I realised that I had come to respect him – at least more so than I did when the glide crashed – and that this could result in a sense of trust. Was I ready to trust him?

Until a few days ago, my life had consisted of three people and hundreds of beasts. Sebastien was the first new person I had met, and I was still coming to terms with what that meant, and how we were supposed to interact. It seemed to be going well so far, however.

A bundle of feathers burst from a nearby doorway, and Petro pummelled into me. Laughing, I caught his leg and cuddled him to me.

"Where has Innlechild been? Petro has been looking," he sent.

I smiled. "Do not fear, Petro. I was with the Red Queen."

"And the gypsy funaga," Petro added with a baleful look at Sebastien.

We came to a luxurious lounge room, where my parents sat, deep in conversation with a woman I did not recognise. My mother leaned back to smile at me.

"Why don't you two go exploring around Redport?" she suggested.

Petro squawked, insulted.

"Sorry, you _three_."

"Good idea," Sebastien agreed.

I shrugged. "May as well see it all while we are here."

We made our way toward the front door of the palace, nodding to the guards as we left. Petro was eager to spread his wings and fly properly for the first time since our arrival.

"Palace barud is stuffy," he complained. Soon the little owl was out of sight, but I knew he would come back to me. He always had some way of finding me.

Sebastien led the way, having been to Redport before, and showed me what he considered the most interesting aspects of the desert city. We went back to the Infinity of Dragonstraat to gaze up into the painted beauty of Dragon's face, then he led me toward a dishevelled looking ruin.

"Why are we coming here?" I asked.

"This," the gypsy replied, "was once Slavetown. Matthew lived here at one time, along with many others from Obernewtyn and the Land. That was when the Gadfian slavers ruled Redport."

I knelt by a fallen doll, discarded many years ago by a child born into slavery. Such a fate must have been terrible for a child to endure. "Why would the Gadfians do that? People selling people… I can't even imagine people selling animals."

Sebastien smiled and knelt beside me, picking up the doll and wiping some of the dirt away from its ragged face. "They obviously have different moral standards. We have grown up in a time and place where everyone is equal. Gadfian society is structured very differently."

A noise distracted me from the doll, and I turned around to see five large men approaching, brandishing knives and large sacks. "Sebastien…"

He was up in moments, a knife appearing in his hand. But we were terribly outnumbered. Concentration creased his face as he endeavoured to use coercion on one of the men, but I gasped as I realised they wore metal bands around their arms. My mother had told me of demon bands, and I had found the idea detestable and unfathomable. Yet here they were, rendering us defenceless.

A sack was thrown over my head and rough hands seized me. I shrieked, kicking and punching at random, though I could not see my attackers. Sebastien cried out and I heard the sounds of a scuffle, resulting in a hiss of pain from the gypsy. I hoped he had not been badly injured. Petro joined the fray, hissing and diving at the men, but his efforts were in vain.

"Petro, fly back to the palace. Tell my parents what has happened. You can help us more if you escape," I sent urgently.

Reluctantly, he launched himself into the air and flew away. I had stopped struggling, but tried to slow my heavy breathing and pounding heart. Then someone struck me over the head and I knew nothing.

Next I knew, I was in a cage. Sebastien lay beside me, blood soaking the sleeve of his shirt. On impulse, I took his arm and prepared to heal the wound. Then I noticed the biting metal collar around my neck and sank back. I wore a cursed demon band. My abilities were useless.

The gypsy stirred and I called his name, anxious that he would recover. His eyelids fluttered a few times before opening.

"Cassy?"

I smiled grimly. "Yes, Sebastien." He, too, wore a demon band around his neck.

Looking around, I tried to figure out where we were. There were no houses in sight, so I assumed this wasn't Redport. We must have been taken back toward the desert. The cage was attached to a large hut, and both sat atop a sand dune. Gazing out, I could see kilometres of sand. How I hated sand.

The cage was suddenly thrown open by a burly man who sneered at us. "Who wants to go first?" he asked mockingly, in an accent I didn't recognise.

I shrank back, knowing that if he required us to do something I was the most fit to do so.

He laughed cruelly. "Just fooling you; you are both going on this little excursion."

Another man approached, and they seized Sebastien and me, dragging us from the cage. We were heaved upright and our hands bound in front of us, before strips of cloth were tied over our eyes. Blinded, we stumbled as our captors pushed us into a vehicle of some sort; probably a cart or a carriage.

Fear and reluctant acceptance were all I felt as the vehicle pulled off, and on instinct I reached toward where I supposed Sebastien sat. The gypsy's hands were warm as they enveloped mine, though both our pairs of hands were soon slick with the blood which poured from the wound to his arm. I decided I didn't care.

After half an hour or so of travel, the vehicle came to a halt and we were bundled roughly to the ground. Sand poured into my sandals, so we were still in the desert. Then the hands unbound the cloth from our eyes and the rope from our wrists, before we were left alone in the sand. The vehicle turned and trundled away.

"Why…?" I began, to be cut off by a sound of alarm from Sebastien.

"Cassy, your feet!"

I glanced down and realised my feet had sunk into the sand, and my legs were only visible from the knee up. Shocked, I tried to pull one foot out, but the other sank deeper.

"Sebastien," I gasped as the gypsy began to sink too. Soon we were both waist deep.

"What do we do?" I cried.

He looked determined. "I don't want to die not knowing why we're here. Maybe we can… grab onto something." He broke off, looking into the distance behind me. "They're sitting there watching us, the sick bastards. Waiting for us to die."

"Sebastien, over there!"

The gypsy's gaze followed my pointing finger to where a rock ledge jutted out over the sand just twenty metres away.

"Can we move sideways? If we can climb that ledge, we'll be safe," I suggested.

Sebastien nodded and pushed against the sand in the direction of the rocks, but to no avail. He sank lower, covered from toe to chest in sand. Slowly, I realised I was still seeping downward too. I was shorter than him, so where he was chest-deep, I was neck-deep.

The gypsy laughed.

I stared at him in surprise. "What is so funny?"

"This is it. This is how deep it goes. My feet are on hard rock."

Pressing down with my toes, I realised he was right. This was the extent of the quick sand. We were not going to drown in it. But how on earth were we going to get out?

"They knew it all along," Sebastien continued. "They have been watching us, not waiting for our deaths, but for the moment we realised the limit of our danger. They must think it incredibly funny."

"Hmmph," I agreed.

Three men appeared, having observed our plight from a hill somewhere behind me, and took an arm of ours each. They laughed as we dusted ourselves off, reminding each other of the most hilarious parts of the episode. My borrowed shirt and skirt which had once been magnificently embroidered red now looked brown, and the fabric was worn. The men offered no explanation for leaving us in the quicksand, but bound our hands again and led us back to the waiting cart.

We were transported back to the hut and locked in our cage, more questions on our lips than could be asked of people who possessed limited knowledge of Uropan. They would have to wait.


End file.
